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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29790369">Lost letters, found love</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fenrislorsrai/pseuds/fenrislorsrai'>fenrislorsrai</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale's Bookshop (Good Omens), Gay yearning, Gen, Love Letters, Pining, Requited Love, The Arrangement (Good Omens), mlm &amp; wlw solidarity</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 03:22:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>502</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29790369</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fenrislorsrai/pseuds/fenrislorsrai</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When a box of books is left on Aziraphale's doorstep he finds some old love letters from the previous owner. They remind him that he can be the brave one and reach out.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale &amp; Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>GO Angst Bingo 2020, Name That Author Round 11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Lost letters, found love</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Angst bingo call: Posthumous letter</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
Aziraphale was used to books arriving with items tucked between the leaves: pressed flowers, locks of hair, dance cards, losing lottery tickets, photographs, and letters. So many letters. Some were simple correspondence used as a convenient bookmark. Some were cherished mementos carefully stored in a significant tome. They often arrived on his doorstep with no sign who had cleared out a house and dumped it on his stoop while he was closed. He was then left to pick through the boxes of books and piece together a life now gone.
</p><p>
Today’s box was full of tatty, out-of-print paperbacks from small publishers. The ones who had run those presses had passed away in the 80s and 90s, like so many others. There was one that had clearly been rebound by hand at some point, so something of sentimental value. The title on the spine was unfamiliar. He opened it up and immediately found a letter stuck in the flyleaf.
</p><p>
It was worn to the point of starting to tear from being folded and refolded.. It had been patched together with cellophane tape but that too was starting to break apart with time.
</p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>

    My dearest, 
</p>
  <p>

    I have a family to think of. I can’t not go. Everyone has given so much and this is what is asked of me, to go to the battlefield and live up to the family title. It is a nasty, brutal war and not one that can be won with diplomacy, I am afraid.
</p>
  <p>

    I am afraid. 
</p>
  <p>

    You were among the first to volunteer and look at what it cost you. But you’re still willing to go back. You are brave enough to be willing and I am not.
</p>
  <p>

    I could arrange for you to go with me. To be beside me. But I feel you shiver under my hand in the darkness when you hear the planes overhead. There would be no escape from that sound. You served your time, your wounds are closed but aren’t gone. I wish things could be different. You are you and I... I am a coward. Only for you can I be brave.
</p>
  <p>

    I’ve arranged for you to stay with my family in Oxfordshire. My wife knows. She always has. You will like her companion, I hope. There will be talk, there always is, but try to refrain from thrashing my brother. He deserves it, but try to think of the future. Hopefully there will be a London to return to someday and we can resume our arrangement.
</p>
  <p>

    I will write when I am able.
</p>
  <p>

    -A
</p>
</blockquote><p>
He put the letter aside and carefully fanned the pages on the book, to see many more letters tucked between the leaves. He hoped this had a happy ending. If not, well, he would need a glass of wine to deal with that. He paused and looked towards the phone. The past would still be there tomorrow. The future might be persuaded to go to dinner… 
</p><p>
He dialed the only number he had memorized.
</p><p>
“Hello dearest…”
</p>
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